Authors: Alan Dean Foster
With the gaping, narrow jaws less than a meter away from chomping out a chunk of his belly, Flinx leaped. It was an instinctive reaction. I must have had some kind of combat training, he decided as he found himself soaring over the onrushing Teeth. Pain shot through him as twisting, flexing jaws tore flesh from his right calf. He landed on the Teeth's back. Heavily. The impact was considerable. Though strong and wiry, the Teeth could not have weighed more than a hundred kilos. It twisted and jerked, trying to buck him off. Wrapping his legs around its serpentine body, Flinx rode the writhing form as it thrashed wildly, sometimes rising a few meters skyward, at other times banging itself hard against the ground. Then he began to swing his club.
Thorns punctured first one, then a second, and then a third lifting sac. Fetid air escaped from the punctured bladders as the Teeth began to sink earthward. When the narrow jaws would twist around to snap at him, Flinx fended them off with the makeshift club. All the while, Pip kept buzzing the carnivore's head, continually distracting it.
All but bending itself double, the Teeth finally succeeded in throwing him off its back. Grunting as he landed on his left shoulder, Flinx managed to keep a grip on the thorn club. Rolling onto his back, he raised it defensively to ward off the questing jaws he expected to come snapping at his face. He needn't have worried.
Deprived of several of its lifting bladders, the wounded meat-eater was struggling to gain altitude. But no matter how hard it strained and how much it inflated its remaining airsacs, it could not quite muster sufficient lifting power. Squealing and hissing, it floundered off in the opposite direction from its intended prey. As it did so, several
meter-long, worm-like shapes emerged from hiding places in the rocks. Flinx had been completely unaware of their presence. They had individual, sausage-like air bladders that ran the length of their backs, and single eyes set in the center of their fore ends. Beneath the solitary eye, multiple sharp-edged tentacles curled and uncurled expectantly, like barbed beards. Inflating their bladders, the creatures silently rose a couple of meters into the air and began to track the injured Teeth. They were careful to keep a respectful distance from the much larger carnivore. They were in no hurry, and had plenty of time.
It was a coarsely beautiful place in which he found himself, Flinx decided, but with the single exception of his winged traveling companion it was not a benign one. Once again he found himself wondering: from where had he conjured the name Pip? Was it the right one, or just something dredged hastily from the sludge that was his memory? Perhaps one day he would find out.
Following the fight, he discovered that he needed water more than ever. Scanning the rocky eastern horizon, he saw what he thought might be a line of deeper green off to his left. As he started in its direction, he wondered if he would last long enough to reach it.
I've been in this kind of situation before, he realized with a sudden start, and obviously he had survived it. So I have endurance.
What he did not have, he feared, was time.
Qyl-Elussab guided the cargo lifter with practiced skill. Though somewhat shorter than the Vsseyan average, the driver's ability to handle the transport was not affected. The manipulating tentacles presently hard at work were no less active or agile than those of a larger representative of the Vsseyan species. The driver was able to reach the controls easily enough. Of local Vsseyan manufacture,
the lifter was one of those clever devices that enabled its designers to get around far more rapidly than by hopping. When several dozen short tentacles functioned in tandem, the driver was able to handle a dozen controls simultaneously. It was a demonstration of digital skill no human or AAnn could have equaled.
The lifter bore Qyl-Elussab and cargo deep into the AAnn complex. Making use of the transporter's built-in navigation system, the tightly focused driver turned down a corridor to the right. An armed AAnn stood guard at the end. After checking the visitor's credentials and running through the electronic manifest attached to the lifter, the guard hissed indifferently and passed both driver and cargo through. A stream of alternating large and small bubbles emerged from Qyl-Elussab's mouth. They would have meant nothing to the AAnn even if it had still been looking in the driver's direction.
The guard had barely glanced at the cargo. Not that it would likely have mattered if she had. The appended manifest had been clear enough, and the container was only one among dozens that passed daily throughout the checkpoint, virtually indistinguishable from the hundreds that had preceded it.
Arriving at the compound's food preparation facility, the lifter was halted by a particularly officious AAnn clad in attire appropriate to his position and status. Sparing a quick glance for the shipment and none for the driver, he gestured indifferently with hand and tail.
“Put it over there, with the other recent deliveriess.” Having divested himself of the directive, he turned away and moved off to converse with several other AAnn. His attitude toward the lifter's driver, a local, was typically dismissive. When working with their Vssey hosts, the AAnn were formally polite, but rarely more than that.
Expecting nothing in the way of a salutation, of anything beyond the curt order, Qyl-Elussab was not disappointed.
Working quickly, the lifter's automatic manipulators deposited the load in the designated place, finding an empty slot among numerous ranks of high, crowded shelves. The unloading completed within a few minutes, Qyl-Elussab backed the lifter out of the warehousing area and headed for the compound's exit as rapidly as was prudent. Only when safely outside did the Vssey abandon the lifter in the external staging zone. A couple of the other Vssey working there eyed the stranger uncertainly. Neither remembered the newcomer from previous workdays. But they were not sufficiently moved to ask questions. Local staff at the AAnn compound changed all the time.
Qyl-Elussab wanted to confront them anyway. To tell them to stay out of the complex, to take the rest of the morning off from work, to form a circle of contemplating and ponder the wind and the sky for a while. But the departing driver dared not. The organization to which QylElussab belonged was still quite small, and its opinion very much a minority one. The delivery to the AAnn support compound this morning was intended to make a statement somewhat out of proportion to the organization's size and numbers. So the driver was forced to withhold both words and bubbles as a steady series of hops brought the heavily monitored exit ever nearer. The guard there did not even check Qyl-Elussab's work permit as the visitor departed.
The rest of the morning passed peacefully. So did the following day. Within the compound, work went on as always, performed to the usual high AAnn standards of efficiency. On the third day subsequent to Qyl-Elussab's visit, a food preparatory specialist moved twenty loaves of prepacked protein stretcher from the relevant warehouse section into the main kitchen. There they were
placed at the disposal of the waiting preparers. Two of them manipulated loaf after loaf into the mass cooker, where premeasured spices and condiments were added to the imported base material. Each loaf was identical to the one that preceded it into the cooker. Only the eleventh loaf was different. Its differences not being immediately visible, it was opened in its turn by a small mechanical device designed for the purpose of automatically divesting it of its airtight packaging.
It took a moment for oxygen in the room to make contact with the injected material that had been skillfully blended with the protein expander. When catalyst met contents, energy was released. Rather violently. The resulting conflagration made quite a mess of the food preparation facility, the food storage area, and the cafeteria-style eating chamber located nearby. Twenty-two AAnn were killed instantly, and dozens more were injured.
Following the screaming, hissing, stress-filled aftermath, highly efficient specialists combed through the wreckage. They found traces of the explosive that had been concealed in the protein pack. The distinctive chemical signature pointed accusingly to material that was unpretentious in origin but devastating in its consequences. A report was issued. Security was tightened at every AAnn outpost on the planet. There was no general alarm. The AAnn were not given to panic. Both their own administrators and the pertinent local officials were confident that the perpetrators of the outrage would be found, and dealt with. Suitably horrified by the unprovoked carnage, the Vsseyan authorities offered full cooperation.
Certain steps were taken.
Breathing hard, claws curled inward, tail extended fully out behind him for balance, a crouching, unclothed Takuuna pivoted slowly in one place while keeping a wary eye
on his opponent. She, too, was respirating heavily, her eyes following his every movement. To the inexperienced, it would appear as if the two of them were engaged in serious, if not mortal, combat. To understand what was really happening, one would have to know that their labored breathing was not entirely due to an excessive expenditure of combative energy.
When she leaped at him, he was ready. Using his slightly longer arms, he ducked instead of dodging sideways and struck out to the left, catching her behind her knees while avoiding the claws on her bare feet. She lost her balance and fell forward. He was on her in an instant, pinning her arms while lying far enough forward on her back to avoid the thrashing tail. Words were exchanged. Her initial fury subsided into muttered, grudging admiration for his agility. An indication of willing concession, her tail slumped to one side as she fully acquiesced.
It was important if not necessary for him to win the precoital fight. The ultimate result would have been the same no matter which of them had won the right to secure the dominant position, but no AAnn worth his or her second eyelid would have simply conceded it merely for the purpose of facilitating a mating. From a social standpoint, it would have been unforgivable. Had he, for example, simply rolled and dropped his tail, she would have, despite her readiness to breed, probably spat on him and stalked out of the chamber. No AAnn got to mate unless they proved themselves worthy, and the proof lay in the customary attempt to try to secure the dominant mating position.
His success left her angry and disappointed, of course, just as he would have been had he lost the contest. That did not prevent them from consummating the confrontation with a flourish. Once defeated, a partner could not attempt to regain dominance either during or after coitus.
She would have to wait until next time. Respirating deeply in the aftermath, he decided he would be more than pleased to allow her a rematch.
It had been thus among his kind for as long as any could remember. Judged by the standards of the mating rituals traditionally evoked by other species, it appeared harsh, even brutal at times. Despite the protection afforded by elaborate rules and guidelines, injuries were not uncommon. But it had ensured that only the fittest AAnn propagated. It was also excellent exercise, ultimately relaxing (wounds sustained notwithstanding), and was not, he mused as he rinsed himself in the afterbath, wholly unexciting.
Later, they joined another couple in the sandarium, burrowing into the imported, sterilized, and properly heated sand up to their necks. After the physical exertion of contesting and mating, followed by the tepid washing, the en-folding warmed sand felt indescribably luxurious against his scales. He knew the other pair only casually, having encountered them separately within the administration complex. As his partner for the encounter clearly knew them better, he let her make the opening gestures and carry most of the conversation. She tended to ignore him now, as was only proper for a nye after contesting. After all, they had mated but were not bound.
He was preparing to leave to return to work, pulling and pushing himself as slowly as possible out of the deep sand in order to enjoy the last lingering piquant caress of the particles as they slid off his scales, when the messenger arrived. That in itself was unusual. What was so important that it could not wait for the bathers to dress and access the communicators that were an integral part of every nye's attire?
The anxious messenger scanned the figures occupying
the sand bath. “Adminisstrator Second Takuuna VBXLLW?”
Takuuna identified himself. “There iss a matter of urgency?” He was aware that from within the bath, his still-immersed bathing companions were watching him intently.
The messenger fluttered a hasty gesture of second-degree affirmation. “You are directed to report immediately to the office of the respected Keliichu RGQQ.”
From the storage alcove where he had carefully placed it, Takuuna was removing and slipping back into his work attire. “For what purposse?”
A swift downward hand swipe signifying ignorance. “I wass told to deliver the order. Nothing more.”
Of course there wasn't. He was only a messenger, Takuuna thought understandingly. Young as he was, he probably still had at least a dozen subjunctives attached to his name. As the messenger left, the administrator saw that his communicator was indeed alight. It could not be too serious an emergency or the device would have interrupted his break with an alarm. That, at least, was encouraging.
It did not make him wonder less, or render him less nervous. What did Skokosas's primary administrator Keliichu want with him? He had never dealt with Keliichu personally, having encountered the senior official only on a few formal occasions. Keliichu stood several levels above him in the administrative hierarchy. Aware that his bathing companions were still watching him, he turned and nodded knowingly.
“It sseemss that the venerable Keliichu wisshess my advice. I am ssorry that I musst take my leave of you sso ssoon.”
One of the other bathers hissed understandingly. “We
have sspent time enough here, I think. Work awaitss all of uss.”
“Truly.” Takuuna's challenger dragged herself out of the sand, her supple tail whipping lazily back and forth behind her as she emerged. Golden grains spilled in small sandfalls from her back and flanks.